


Acciaccatura

by Laora



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Gen, Neku needs some heckin therapy, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laora/pseuds/Laora
Summary: After the Long Game, 777 and Neku have lunch.
Comments: 19
Kudos: 41





	Acciaccatura

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting in my wip folder for like, 6 months and i accidentally finished it today at work
> 
> idk it's not like, a masterpiece but i just really like 777 ok and he was surprisingly chill for a reaper so i feel like this is in character

_**Acciaccatura** : a grace note performed as quickly as possible before an essential note of a melody_

* * *

After he spent three weeks fighting for his life, it really shouldn't surprise him that he can still see the UG.

He freaks out, the first time he sees Noise—the first time he witnesses the start of a new Game, over by Hachiko. But over time (and with plenty of help from his new friends—his _friends,_ he has _friends_ now _),_ he finds his new equilibrium. He doesn't flinch anymore at static in the corner of his eye, or ghosts running through the crowds.

He's slowly growing comfortable seeing the Reapers around, too. He avoids eye contact—especially with any who seem to recognize him—but he knows he can’t avoid an entire group of people in as small a space as Shibuya. The wall Reapers leave him well enough alone, and he hasn't seen any Harriers he recognizes. He hopes, distantly, strangely, that they're all okay.

Or, well, as okay as they can be. After his and Beat's last, desperate run through the city—after Shades' fucked up pins—he knows more than a few of them have to have been Erased.

(The possessed Reapers he and Beat fought fizzled out of existence, at the end, just like Noise—just like Rhyme. He tries very, _very_ hard not to think about it.)

* * *

BJ and Tenho try to approach him, once. At least, he’s pretty sure it’s them—they have their hoods up, but they’re coming from A-East, and they’re walking purposefully enough that they probably have actual business with him.

But all he can see is 777’s choker laying abandoned on the floor of that stadium. He hears Konishi's laughter coming from everywhere and nowhere, and 777's choked scream before they could rush in after him, and—

And he thinks that this is one confrontation he cannot deal with right now. A couple blocks later, when he’s out of breath with shaking hands, he turns to see that they haven’t followed.

The next day, it’s a little harder to ignore the bleached, spiked hairdo as its owner approaches him, towering over the crowds. Neku _stares_ as 777 walks up to him, wiry wings and all, looking completely lost.

“Had you pegged for reincarnation, man,” he opens with, and Neku finds he doesn’t have anything to say in response. His hands are shaking violently. “What’re you doing running with us?”

“I _was_ reincarnated,” Neku manages eventually, and doesn’t stop to wonder what this would look like to any passers-by. “You see any wings here?”

777’s frown grows deeper. “Then what’re you doing talking to me?” he asks. “The guys said you ran away from them the other day?”

“Yeah, I thought—“ here, he chokes, and has to swallow before continuing—“Me and Beat, we found your choker in A-East. I thought you were…”

He trails off, and 777 shifts, his face twisting. “Me too, man,” he says eventually. “But that’s not the important thing—you still in the UG? That’s real weird—I can ask around—“

“No,” Neku says, and as if to prove his point, someone bumps into his shoulder as they pass, giving him a dirty look for blocking the sidewalk. “I’m just—I’m still able to see you all. I don’t know why.”

777 studies him for a second, crossing his arms over his chest. Then, his form fuzzes for a second, and his wings disappear, and someone nearly barges right into him as he truly materializes on the sidewalk. “Let’s grab lunch,” he says eventually, and gestures for Neku to follow. “Looks like you need someone to talk to.”

* * *

“So, I don’t know how much you know about the politics of the UG,” 777 opens with, and Neku grumbles _too much_ into his burger, “but most of the power struggle between Reapers comes from wanting to become the Conductor, or the Composer.”

“Yeah,” Neku mutters, “I know that much.”

“Cool. So, I’m gonna preface this by saying I don’t want anything to do with any of that,” he continues. “Got the band to think about, you know? The Composer’s identity is supposed to be all _hush hush_ so they don’t have to fend off assassinations all the time, but I don’t really care either way. Kitaniji’s our Conductor, you probably never met him—“

“I did, actually,” Neku says, and refrains from saying _I beat his ass, twice_. “Um, I think he might have been Erased.”

777’s brows hit his hairline. “By who?” he asks, leaning forward a little. “He’s got plenty of power behind those ridículous shades—“

“The Composer,” he says quietly, and picks at his fries. Eventually he looks up once the silence grows a little too long to see that 777’s face has gone pale.

“That’s a new one,” he says eventually, and runs one hand through his hair. “The Composer erasing their own Conductor? _Shit—_ “

“It sounded complicated, but Jo—the Composer said that they were playing their own Game, and that Shades lost. There was, uh, a lot going on right then.” He shakes his head, and reaches to rub absent-mindedly at his chest where, sometimes, he still feels a phantom bullet shattering his ribcage.

777’s eyes grow sharp, though, and he stares more closely at Neku. “You saw the Composer?” he asks, something like awe in his voice. “You _met_ them?”

“Yeah,” Neku says, suddenly a little uncomfortable. What 777 said about his ambitions sounds legit, and—well, he and Beat trashed his ass, when he was out for their bounty. Josh will be fine, probably. “You did too.”

777 grows, somehow, even paler—and Neku hurries to continue, “My Partner in my second week? The blonde kid who helped you look for your microphone? That was him.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds longer, before 777 throws back his head and _howls_. “That fuckin’ kid’s our _boss_?” he asks, his voice rising an octave or so. “Fuck, that’s ridiculous—“

Several people at nearby tables turn to glare at them, and Neku shrinks down a little. 777 gets his laughter under control eventually, though stray chuckles come out every now and then. "Well, that throws my whole plan for the conversation right out the window," he says conversationally, and takes a slurp of his milkshake. "So, uh…you won that third week, then, yeah? Damn, don't think I've ever seen anyone go for a _second_ round, let alone a third."

"Yeah," he says, quietly, and fiddles some more with his fries. "Shades wasn't going to reincarnate me, but I wasn't about to be a Reaper, so…" He hesitates, plays that back in his head, and then blanches. "Uh, no offense—"

"Nah, I know how you've gotta feel about us, 'specially after three weeks," he says, waving a hand. "Truth is, a lot of us weren't given much of a choice. Or else, we didn't have anything holding us down to the RG. Not too many see it as a real loss."

He shrugs, and Neku finds that he doesn't have a response to that. "Makin' music is way easier in the UG, anyway," he continues, tilting his head a little as he thinks. "When I was alive, I had all sorts of ideas, but I couldn't get them out on paper, no matter what I tried. Up here, it feels…more open, I guess. And I never woulda met the other two if I weren't a reaper. D'you know Tenho's been a Wall for goin' on twenty years? Says he likes it better than the Erasin', even if it's boring as hell. Fuck, he died before you were even born. It's weird to think about."

Neku blinks. Yeah, that's… That's something he's never considered. "So you don't age as a Reaper?" he asks, picking up another fry, and 777 shakes his head.

"Nah, I died when I was twenty, and that was eight years ago," he says. "Haven't aged a day since then."

So…so all of the Reapers are older than they look, then? What does that mean for—? "Do you know how old Joshua is?" he asks, and 777 tilts his head. "My second Partner, I mean. The Composer."

777 chews on his cheek. "He had the seat before I died," he says thoughtfully. "With the way Kariya talks about transitions, they're a pain in the ass—I woulda remembered that one. Maybe Tenho'd know, I can ask him if you want."

Neku shrugs. Maybe if Josh would deign to grace Neku with his presence, he wouldn't have to go off hearsay and gossip. And anyway, there's something else he needs to know, after he left the plane in shambles. "Is the UG any different now?" he asks, staring at his plate. "Since I got out. With the red pins, and everything."

777 hums. "It's definitely weird," he admits. "Lots of promotions and shuffles, since the Officers were pretty well routed. Lots of empty walls, too." He's chewing on his cheek again, staring at the salt shaker now. "If Shades is really gone, I haven't heard of anyone hired to take his spot. But the Composer's always been so hands off, too. We haven't had a Game since yours. Maybe that's why."

It's been over a month since he got out. Neku clenches his jaw. "I didn't mean to Erase any of them," he says, very quietly. His hands are shaking, just a little. "Me and Beat, but they—they were possessed, and they attacked us, and they wouldn't say anything besides that _paradise_ thing, and they wouldn't listen to us, and their _eyes_ were—"

He chokes off, and rubs at his face. 777 is quiet for a minute; Neku thinks about it, and realizes that he got Erased before all that shit started up. But really, that's beside the point. He still, probably, knew some of the Reapers that turned to dust under his psychs and Beat's board. "We didn't mean to kill them," he whispers, again, and 777 leans back in his chair.

"There wasn't anything else you could do, from what I heard," he says, matter-of-fact. "And us Reapers? We're living on borrowed time, anyway."

* * *

They don't stay too much longer—Neku's exhausted, and 777 has rehearsal. But before they part ways, outside Sunshine, 777 presses a bunch of slips of paper into his hand. "Seriously, kid," he says, his voice lower. "Don't beat yourself up about it, all right? That shit that went down...the others told me, and it was all kinds of fucked up. The whole point of the Game is to survive, right? And that's what you did."

Neku swallows, and looks down at his hand. There's five tickets to Def March's next show, this weekend: VIP passes. Eri's gonna go _nuts_. "I'd better see you there," 777 says with a little grin, and takes a step back, crossing his arms. "Nothin' like some music therapy to get you feeling alive again, right? We've got a real sick set lined up that'll get your blood pumping."

Neku closes his fingers around the tickets, and looks up at 777. Somehow, he manages a smile. "Thanks," he says, quiet, and 777's grin grows wider.

"Anytime, dude," he says, and then his wings flash into focus behind him as he disappears through the crowd.

**Author's Note:**

> for real though i feel like we need to have a conversation about how neku and beat DEFINITELY erased several reapers in week 3 which is,,,,,, kinda fucked up
> 
> not even taking into account higashizawa and konishi. like sure they're all already dead but still, that'd fuck a guy up


End file.
